


Little Moments, Outright

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-27
Updated: 2011-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guys don't always think about sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Moments, Outright

Guys don’t always think about sex.

Except, of course, when John’s ambling down a corridor next to Teyla, and she turns on her toes when Cadman calls them from behind, and her fingertip grazes through the hair on his forearm.

(That night, John skims his hand over his forearm lightly enough to make him shiver, and thinks of the glance of apology she shot him - tossed hair and the curve of her jaw and throat, perfect as a circle - before he takes himself ‘in hand’.)

Or when she offers him her dish of ‘apple pie’ - questionable fruit stewed until it’s unidentifiable between two layers of soggy stuff that is allegedly pastry - and their fingers touch as she hands it over to him.

(It’s just a touch. She’s had a firmer grip on him heaps of times before. But this feels different. It’s the gleam of laughter in her eyes as she offered him the dessert. What can John say? He _likes_ fruit in soggy pastry. And her smile.)

There’s the time when they slide into a niche along a long corridor while on the run from some people holding their team-mates captive, and they endeavour to look like they’re just one more set of shadows behind a couple of shadowy statues.

(Adrenaline does things to the libido. John knows this perfectly well. But her skin’s darker and less likely to be seen in this corner, so his face is turned into her hair and she smells of scented wood and Teyla-sweat. And although his mind knows perfectly well that they’re in tight quarters and that there are vests and guns and clothing between them, his dick is pointing out that they’re in _tight quarters_ , and John knows that if she turned her face up to look at him, he’d be hard in seconds.)

And then, there’s the time when she pauses at her doorway when she should say goodnight, and John’s about to make a casual comment and go back to his own solitary room. But her eyes are dark and steady on his face and he finds himself taking that step into her quarters like a man who’s about to have all his midnight fantasies come true and brushing a finger into the hollow of her cheek.

(Her mouth curves, and her lashes drop, and she leans into the contact and then it’s no longer a mere brush of skin against skin but an outright caress. And things...progress.)

This time when John’s got sex on the brain, he’s not thinking at all.


End file.
